


Monsters in the Dark

by Poetiicdissonance



Category: The Dresden Files (TV), The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Ghosts, Light Angst, POV Third Person, Pre-Canon, Sleepiness, except not, monsters under the bed, non-traditional teddy bears, show verse primarily, sleeping habits of a preteen wizard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 18:15:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20782958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poetiicdissonance/pseuds/Poetiicdissonance
Summary: The first time Harry comes to Bob to check for monsters is a surprise. Eventually it stops being a surprise.





	Monsters in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first work in this fandom, and it was 100% El's fault (@therimoire on tumblr). So enjoy this!

The Morningway estate was cold, and echoed in the way all old and empty estates did. The difference was made even more stark to the young boy who had spent a lifetime in motels and small apartments whenever his father had managed to get a consistent job performing. The moon shone through the windows, catching the dust in the air, and settling an almost unearthly haze over the hallway. Harry’s fists curled a little tighter into his pajama shirt, as he padded his way towards the library, where the skull of Hrothbert of Bainbridge rested, unless his Uncle Justin has decided to move it in the few hours since his lessons had ended. Which, Harry doubted, would be the case. His Uncle rarely moved Bob, unless absolutely necessary, mostly he left him in the library to act as a teacher and mentor to his nephew. 

Approaching the library doors, Harry knocked once, to make sure Bob knew he was there before pushing open the heavy doors. Bob was illuminated by the orange glow of his writing. Stepping into the room, Harry paused, trying to figure out what to say, as Bob raised an eyebrow at the unexpected visitor. Harry’s lessons had ended hours ago, and the eleven year old was supposed to have been in bed by now. The only reason he knew that the young wizard was intended to be in bed, was because he had been the one to set a reasonable time. (Bob was almost certain that Justin had taken in the child intending to give him to Bob to raise. He certainly didn’t seem interested in doing it).

Harry raised his head to look at Bob, and asked quietly, “Can you check under my bed for monsters?”. Bob blinked once, surprised by the question, before he nodded. There were creatures that would decide to take up residence under the beds of children. More than a few, but, Bob thought, it was rather more likely that Harry was simply afraid, and his overactive imagination was making him hear things. He had gone through a lot in the past month. (Which he had helped perpetuate).

Harry let out a sigh of relief, visibly relaxing just a little, as if afraid that Bob would have refused him. He nodded, walking farther into the library that had become a classroom, to grab the skull that Bob was fettered to. He held it delicately, almost afraid it would break before turning back towards his room. Waving a hand, Bob cleared away the glowing orange writing and followed the young wizard. Silently, Bob was proud of Harry remembering that he had to take the skull, or else he wouldn't be able to accompany the boy to check for monsters.

The walk back to the bedroom was quick, and his young charge wasted no time in curling back under the thick covers (more than a few of the hired help had complained about the dreadful chill that never seemed to lift from the estate), with Bob’s skull pressed close, like a talisman that would protect him while he slept. Bob leaned down to look under the bed for any monsters, as Harry did. As he had expected, there weren’t any, but children were prone to flights of fantasy, and in Harry’s case, the chances were higher than with most children for there to be actual risk.

Straightening, the old ghost returned his attention to the wizard. “There are no monsters under your bed, you’re safe. It would take an extraordinarily powerful creature to make it past your Uncle’s wards.” It wasn’t necessarily the most reassuring thing to say to Harry, but it seemed to help anyways. The Morningway estate held little by the way of a threshold, but the wards were strong, and Justin, as much as a terrible person he was, was a decent wizard.  
“Can.. can you stay?”

It didn’t seem prudent to remind Harry that he had to; his skull was here, and so was he. But it was late, and Justin wouldn’t tolerate his heir acting unbecoming by falling asleep into his porridge the next morning. He nodded, rolling his eyes subtly as he did “Of course.” Harry smiled, calmed, and comfortable under the blankets, the inscribed skull held close. Soon he was asleep, breathing evenly, and Bob smiled slightly at him, before starting the task of writing out another potion formula that Justin ordered. (Which really, he was the trapped ghost of a feared wizard, not a babysitter, however Justin had decided to use him). The orange bathed the room, and the sleeping child in a soft light.

Tomorrow was then though, and for tonight, Bob was content enough to keep a vigil on Harry. Part of him briefly thought about what had gone so terribly wrong, that Harry had come to him for comfort, instead of Justin, who was, if nothing else, his uncle- his family. The answer was clear of course, he was the one that had taken care of Harry since he had come to the estate, but that thought didn’t bear thinking about. He was supposed to be one of the creatures that existed in the dark crevices under children’s beds, not the one to make sure that they weren’t there.

* * *

It had been many years since Harry had first asked Bob to look under the bed for monsters, but still, there were times when Harry, exhausted and afraid, would quietly ask Bob for that little bit of reassurance. Most of those nights, Harry would curl around the skull protectively, looking just like he had when he was eleven, and still afraid of the unknown things that lived in the dark. It resembled children and a treasured teddy bear, but in the case of most children their comfort wasn’t the skull of a millennia-old necromancer. Although, there had never been much by way of normal in the life of Harry Dresden, and perhaps this one odd eccentricity was excusable. For those that knew him, it probably wasn’t even the strangest thing they knew about him. 

Harry would fall asleep tracing the inscriptions in the skull, and in the morning would wake with red marks on his wrist from where they had pressed against the hard bone. Neither of them would mention it, and Bob would pretend to himself that it didn’t break his heart that Harry trusted him to look for the monsters. Afterall, Hrothbert of Bainbridge was the sort of horror story that people wrote plays about- had written plays about, even if not all the facts had been entirely accurate. But maybe, just maybe, Hrothbert of Bainbridge could be a monster to everyone _except_ Harry Dresden.


End file.
